


Quite Strange Indeed

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Children, Episode 3, Season 2, Sneaky Sihtric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Sihtric meets the little girl who gives Hild the note in the apple.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Quite Strange Indeed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Java_Blythe_Peralta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/gifts).



> Hi! 
> 
> This was supposed to be a quick little thing. I'm thinking about starting a collection of tiny fics because I have so many ideas that I want to write about, but I don't think they're enough to make full-blown fics. This was supposed to be the first one, but alas, I kept going and it quickly turned into almost 1000 words. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this! It was fun writing younger Sihtric! 
> 
> As well, this is for my beautiful, wonderful, amazing friend Java_Blythe_Peralta, who is always the first to read these and sends me many hilarious texts while reading it. I love you so much!
> 
> Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don't be rude, because nobody wants that.

Sihtric never really understood children. They were strange. 

The vibrance for life that ebbed and flowed through them was something that bewildered him. He supposed it was because he never really had a childhood. Instead of dodging puddles in the ground, he had to dodge the swing of a fist.

Children were refreshing though. Instead of sneaking terrified glances in his direction, they would openly stare and would not try to hide it. His tattoo and his hair drew many eyes in this town, but he tried to ignore the judgmental glances. 

He was in the market place in Eoferwic, waiting anxiously for Hild to return. Gisela had entrusted him with a letter for her, as she had fled Eoferwic and her brother. The letter was still tucked into the hidden pocket safely, but he checked it quickly just to be sure.

Relieved to feel the slip of parchment against his fingers, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued to browse the market. The apples were nearly rotten, again, but there were a few good ones in the bunch. 

Just as he he was moving a head of cabbage to the side, a small shriek startled him and he nearly dropped it. Placing it down, he glanced over behind the table to see a small girl with straw-coloured hair. 

She couldn’t have had more than ten summers; she was slight, with big eyes that were trained on him. It was quite remarkable, Sihtric thought, that she could go so long without blinking. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. He glanced at the vendor and swiped a small carrot off of the table. He placed it in her hand. “Don’t tell anyone.” He lifted a finger to his lips with a grin.

The corners of her mouth quirked upwards, and she swiftly tucked the carrot under her apron. Noticing the vendor come over, they both quickly walked out into the street. 

“Just keep walking,” he said, because the little girl kept jerking forwards as if she was going to run. She giggled, and her giggles turned to full blown laughter as they turned the corner. 

She pulled the carrot out from her apron, and then snapped it in half. “Thank you,” she said, and gave the one half to Sihtric. Smiling shyly, she took a bit and skipped off, skirts flouncing. 

*****

It had been quite a few weeks since Gisela had ridden off to a nunnery and Hild had taken off to Winchester. But now, Hild was back with a man whom Sihtric assumed was Ragnar, Uhtred’s brother. 

“Where is Uhtred?” Sihtric heard Ragnar demand. “Lord, I wish to know the name of the slaver!”

Sihtric pulled the note from his pocket. It had been worn down over the weeks, the parchment softening and the dirt from his fingers smudging the outside. 

Hild and Ragnar was still arguing with Guthred. The king was weak and indecisive, and the few times Sihtric had seen the man he knew that Guthred was regretting his decision to sell Uhtred immensely. It did not diminish Sihtric’s anger towards the man. 

He needed to get the note to Hild. But how? Glancing around, Sihtric picked up one of the crisper apples in the marketplace. He pulled out his seax and cut a groove into the flesh before sticking the parchment into it.

He stuck the seax back into it’s sheath and looked up. There. The same girl from a few weeks ago was standing with her parents and watching him curiously. 

He beckoned her over, and was pleased when she skipped across the road and came right up to him. 

“I need a favour,” he whispered, bending down to her level. He placed the apple into her hands. “Bring this to the lady on the horse.” He pointed towards Hild. 

She glanced curiously at the apple, obviously interested in the note, but nodded eagerly and went off. Sihtric watched with concern as she dodged the horses and tapped on Hild’s leg. 

Hild looked down, but accepted the apple that was given to her. As the little girl bounded away back to her parents, Hild noticed the parchment and glanced up to meet Sihtric’s gaze. 

He nodded as understanding went through her, turning and ducking away before Guthred and his men took notice of their exchange. 

“What was that about?” Sihtric jumped again as the girl was standing right in front him.

“Nothing that concerns you.” He frowned at her a little bit and tried to dodge around her, but she followed him like a lost sheep. 

“What’s your name?” 

By the gods. “Sihtric,” he muttered. 

“I’m Brictled,” she announced. It seemed her nerves around him had completed dissipated. “I’ve lived in Eoferwic my whole life. Where are you from?” 

Sihtric raised an eyebrow at her many questions. “The north,” he answered. 

“Are you a Dane?” 

Sihtric stopped. “Do I look like a Dane?” He asked, turning to face her.

Brictled shrugged. “Our new king is a Dane,” she explained. “But he looks like a Saxon.”

She was right, Sihtric thought. Guthred was a Dane, but everyday the Saxon Abbot influenced the way Guthred ruled more and more. “Are you scared of Danes?” He asked quietly. 

She thought for a moment. “Some,” she said. “But not you.” 

A strange warmth filled him, and he smiled at her. “Don’t go and start stealing carrots,” he said to her, and she grinned as he walked off. 

Children, indeed, were quite strange.


End file.
